


compulsivity

by NoBetaWeDieLikeGlenn



Series: when a pwp fic grows a plot [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Felix, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rape Aftermath, Rape Fantasy, Rape Recovery, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, is the flavor of this fic, sylvix with an undercurrent of dimilix eventually leading into dimisylvix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoBetaWeDieLikeGlenn/pseuds/NoBetaWeDieLikeGlenn
Summary: Felix has some questions that have no easy answers. He approaches Sylvain for them.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: when a pwp fic grows a plot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660321
Comments: 34
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

Things have more or less settled since that day.

Or so Felix wants to think and insist. While knowledge of the worst of the incident had been kept under wraps at his behest, rumors have a way of flying around Garreg Mach. Just "knowing" that a classmate had been "tortured" during a mission, unofficial as it is, has many sympathetic glances thrown his way when he walks down the corridors of the monastery, even when minding his own goddess-damned business. It's gotten to the point where people have made the mistake of going easy on him during spars—a fact that he makes sure they come to regret.

At the very least, his usual demeanor makes it clear that he's put the incident behind him, and in a few days, people know better than to try and treat him like he's made of glass.

Not that it makes any difference to the nightmares that like to visit him at night. Dreaming of gore, screams of the soon to be deceased, a certain beast's face are nothing new to Felix, but the recent addition of faceless men closing in on him and touching him in places they have no right to has Felix waking up in a cold sweat, to discoveries he would rather not have made.

This evening is no different, and Felix, four days after the incident, starts to jerk himself off once more, hating himself as one question presses against his mind as it usually does despite the lack of an answer forthcoming.

How can he make these nightmares stop?

Still, much as it churns his stomach, Felix knows when a battle is lost and backup is needed, which is why the next day, he corners one Sylvain Jose Gautier after class, knowing full well who likely may have the answers he seeks.

"Sylvain," Felix says, a little strained, maybe a touch more accusatory than he should be. "I have some questions to ask. In private."

"Of course. Lead the way."

There's no joke. No hidden smile or laughter to Sylvain's response. He knows what Felix is about to ask, a fact that should be some sort of relief given how much easier it would be to transition into the relevant discussion Felix wants to get into. But Felix could not find any solace in that, instead wondering how long it has been since Sylvain started worrying about him in this regard.

...Probably since Sylvain and the others found him and Dimitri in that abandoned shack. So much for a sense of normalcy.

Deciding not to comment on Sylvain's easy agreement, Felix leads the way back to the dormitories, but instead of pausing by his room, he walks past it and stops by Sylvain's door, folding his arms as he waits for the aforementioned to open it. Hopefully he doesn't ask why Felix refuses to have this discussion in his bedroom, considering the unease he feels at the relevant location nowadays. This is a discussion better had in a place where Felix could choose to reveal what he wants at will. Sylvain may pretend to be a clueless flirt most of the time, but he has an uncanny way of picking up on things people don't want others to know. "People", in this case, is Felix, given what his yet to be laundered sheets might tell and the unusual, flowery smells he's sprayed his room with in hopes of driving his nightmares away.

Sylvain opens the door to let Felix in, closing it behind them. He walks over to his desk and plucks the chair from it, placing it near his bed where he settles down.

"Go ahead," Sylvain says, unable to completely conceal the concern that flickers over his features, his light tone sounding fake to Felix. "I'm all ears."

Felix takes the offered seat, crossing his legs and going back to folding his arms. As if the latter would help properly exude the aura of control he needs for these aspects of his life that keep slipping away from his hands.

"...Is there a way to stop erotic dreams?"

Nothing like the present to dive right into the heart of the matter, especially when Sylvain seems very much aware of what Felix wants to talk about. Though it doesn't stop Sylvain from holding his breath and taking an inordinate amount of time thinking on Felix's question.

"I mean, I know what _I_ do," Sylvain says. "It's pretty easy to avoid those dreams by just making sure I'm satisfied before I go to sleep."

 _Making sure he's satisfied..._ Felix has never tried that given his aversion to such activities in the first place, but despite Sylvain himself advising it, Felix has the feeling that masturbating is not going to help his problem much, and may even make it worse.

Felix tears his eyes away from Sylvain, preferring to glare at the foot of his bed.

"How exactly is that supposed to—"

Felix stalls and blinks. Unless... it's with someone? But who does he even ask...?

For the moment, he mulls on the thought, wondering what is a more viable course of action for him at the moment. Sylvain seems content to let him do some thinking, not at all interrupting his train of thought that chugs along.

_It's what they all want anyway. If it's gonna happen at least I'm choosing for it to happen._

Which eventually arrives at an overheard discussion, one that had taken place outside Sylvain's door one night after he had stolen away into the town proper for a good time. At the time, Felix dismissed it as an annoyance, a sentiment that Ingrid, the receiver of that statement, was sure to have shared, but now...

It's a little more relevant than how he wants it to be. Especially with its speaker in the same room as him, perhaps able to provide additional context...

...Or more than that, really, considering the idea that comes to Felix's mind in light of that.

"Sylvain. I'm about to ask you a favor, but you have to promise me you will not talk about this to anyone whether you agree to it or not."

He can take Sylvain's laughter—he has dealt with worse at this point—but he's not sure what he'll do if he has yet to deal with Ingrid's uncertain glances or Dimitri's attempts to reach out. He doesn't think Sylvain would tattle, but he might as well secure his word with a promise—a small habit from bygone days.

"...all right," Sylvain says, "I promise."

Felix gulps, his stomach twisting in anxiety as he tries to wrestle with the right words to express what he's about to ask.

"I need you to have sex with me. The rougher, the better."

But there are no "right" words for this one. Not when he's essentially asking Sylvain to violate him in the same manner as those men have. It's too much to ask of any person, but perhaps if it's Sylvain... he could simply view the matter as something similar to a forgettable tryst he might have with one of his women.

Still, he at least tries to meet Sylvain's eye when he says it, thinking that Sylvain deserves that much, given what he is asking of him.

Felix sucks in a breath. "I... won't hold anything against you no matter what you try." If Sylvain would even agree to it. "I promise."

Silence reigns heavy upon them, oppressive before Sylvain responds.

"Come here," Sylvain says softly, patting the bed beside him. That response that is neither a yes or a no has Felix's heart leaping into his throat, jamming any words left and leaving them nowhere to go but back down as Felix swallows, sliding off his seat to take the spot near Sylvain. Is this Sylvain agreeing to what Felix is asking of him? Or is he about to attach a caveat to the whole deal? Felix shivers slightly, unable to tell or make out Sylvain's intentions, but whatever happens, happens.

But along with resignation comes an unusual amount of peace, one that helps Felix keep his calm when he looks to Sylvain again, expectant. Whatever comes his way, Felix knows he can handle it. Because it's Sylvain, a constant, someone who you could rely on when the going gets tough. He knows what to do, and this certainly is no exception in that regard.

Sylvain slips an arm around his shoulders, gently squeezing. Not at all expecting it, Felix stiffens at first before he relaxes, sighing as he surrenders himself to it and leans against Sylvain's shoulder. They're hardly children any more, but then again... Felix running to Sylvain thanks to a problem is very much a relic of the past, isn't it? This may be a different kind of issue, but it's a problem all the same, one he looks to Sylvain for answers.

They stay like that for a few seconds before Sylvain takes a deep breath. "I'm not saying no. But... what are you hoping will come of it?"

Felix exhales. "There's... some things I wish to know for good. Maybe that would help me put everything behind me for real."

Felix's toes curl in his boots as he worries at his lower lip, not at all used to this unusual amount of honesty. But Sylvain deserves that much, even if it's something Felix isn't comfortable divulging.

Sylvain swallows, tilting his head to the side until his cheek rests on the crown of Felix's head. "What should I do? I need—I need you to tell me before we're doing anything, so I know for sure what you want."

"Sylvain…"

Felix closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to stop the lump threatening to rise to his throat and the tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. Despite Sylvain's seeming agreement, his heart feels heavy—not only because of the prospect of reliving that nightmare, but also, asking it of Sylvain, someone cares more deeply than someone of his persona may suggest. This exercise will hurt Sylvain as much as it would Felix—perhaps even more for the former, given how Felix had already undergone this before.

He remembers, of course. How Dimitri looked so aghast at the idea of violating Felix, how he cried and pleaded for him back in that wretched place. That's one reason why Felix could not ask Dimitri do it, never minding his mixed feelings towards what transpired while he was servicing him.

"...Treat me like you would an enemy. One who is getting what they deserve. No, perhaps…"

Felix's gaze grows distant, recalling how those men would take turns with him, heedless of his state.

"...a plaything whose sole purpose is to give you pleasure."

Guilt lines Felix's eyes as he lowers his head, biting down on his lower lip. He's not sure if this is the answer Sylvain needs, but it's all he's capable of for now.

A moment later, Sylvain shifts, placing both hands on Felix's shoulders as Felix feels Sylvain's eyes on him. It's a struggle, but Felix manages to meet them squarely. Never mind how his uncertainty is as clear as day to read and how he doesn't bother hiding his anxiety, which Sylvain must surely know of at this point.

"Tomorrow night," Sylvain finally manages to say, the words scraping out of his throat in a strained rasp. "We don't have class the next day. I'll get us a room somewhere in town. I don't think... it would be good to do it here."

Felix takes in another breath. But if anything, the fire of determination lines his tired gaze, set on seeing this through, come what may.

"Yes. I... don't think it'd be a good idea if we were overheard."

Nor does he want to taint their sanctuaries with the memory, though that goes without saying.

Felix breathes, lowering his gaze in shame. "Thank you... Sylvain. And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," Sylvain says. "I should have been there."

Felix shakes his head. It's not Sylvain's fault that Felix stormed off after his disagreement with Rodrigue and Dimitri decided to wander after him, or that a dark mage hidden from view chose that moment to incapacitate Dimitri while several other men overwhelmed Felix then...

No, Felix just wasn't strong enough, that's all.

Gently, Sylvain brushes loose hairs away from Felix's forehead, planting a chaste kiss there. Felix shouldn't allow himself to get used to this, but here he is, allowing himself to indulge in the comfort he had stubbornly denied himself the past week. He curses himself for willingly taking the invitation, yet he presses his nose into Sylvain's shirt all the same, allowing himself to cling for the moment. Just like he would when they were children, when things were easier and all Felix would come crying to Sylvain for would be nightmares so trivial and fantastical it's a wonder he did. He doesn't cry, by mercy of the goddess, but his heart aches all the same as he leans next to Sylvain.

Tomorrow, there will be none of this. Only a daunting horror he wishes to be able to chase out for good.

"...I don't want to give you any injuries you need a healer for," Sylvain says after a few minutes of indulgence. "We'll stretch you out first, okay?"

"...Okay."

That's a compromise Felix thinks he can work with, considering how he does not look forward to going to Manuela for any more than he already has. She may have agreed to spare his father of the fact that he was violated, but her reluctance about it was clear as day to behold, and Felix isn't about to provide her a reason to have second thoughts on the matter.

Felix exhales, closing his eyes briefly. "I'm... not sure I can remain silent. But don't stop even when I tell you to." Eyes clouding slightly, Felix absently nibbles on the inside of his lower lip. "Not even when I'm begging you to, or look like I'm about to break. I'm a lot sturdier than I seem."

The latter, at least, seems to be true given how many men he had handled that day...

"Wait, what?" Sylvain blurts out, cringing as he curls around Felix more tightly as if he can protect him from feeling like he needs such an awful thing. "I need some way to know if you really, really want me to stop. I can't just—keep going if you're crying and begging me. I wouldn't be able to."

Sylvain releases Felix, brows drawn tightly together as their gazes meet.

"...how about if you really need me to stop, you say 'Mittelfrank'?"

_A cue to cut the performance._

"I…"

 _...won't cry_ , but how can Felix make that promise when the memory of his tears back then are clear as day? Felix sucks in some air, hoping that would ease some of the heaviness settling in his chest, knowing this will be a reality he's going to deal with soon.

"Alright. 'Mittelfrank' it is."

The way this all weighs down on Sylvain hurts to see, and none of Felix's rationalizations about how reenacting this would help is easing any of his discomfort at Sylvain's reactions and admissions.

"Sylvain... I can ask someone else if this is making you too uncomfortable. It's no big deal."

Yes, perhaps he should have in the first place. Considering what had happened and what Felix is trying to come to terms with, perhaps he should have gone for a complete stranger from the get-go. Given what all those men had to say about his appearance, it shouldn't be hard to find someone...

" _No._ "

That vehement response startles Felix a bit, eyes flying wide open at the expression Sylvain wears. But in a moment, it disappears into thin air, almost as if he had imagined it given how smoothly Sylvain continues:

"As long as you have a way to tell me to stop, I don't mind."

"...Okay. I'll be sure to let you know if it gets too much."

But Felix knows. He likely isn't going to use that word, not even when the going gets rough.

Because that's what he wants, doesn't he? Even when he tried to deny it, his body liked everything that was being done to it, even when pain started layering all those acts...

...No. Felix shakes his head slightly, running a hand through his hair. He isn't sure yet, and this is what this experiment is for, isn't it?

"Anything else?"

Time to focus on what needs to get done, instead of losing himself in those memories again.

Sylvain looks like he wants to say more, but he shakes his head. "No, I'll take care of the rest."

Felix, taking his word for it despite that pause, nods.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

The next day proceeds as normal as could be, unheeding of Felix and Sylvain's planned activities for the evening. No one suspects a thing when they file out of the room together, their goodbyes and "see you laters" casual—at least on Sylvain's end. Even after he dons a cloak to conceal most of his appearance, Felix maintains his distance, quiet as they make their way to the inn that Sylvain had in mind, a hood over his head as they do so. The bar in the first floor is boisterous, and the owner does not bat an eye at all when he hands the keys to Sylvain.

"Quite the catch you have there, Jose."

Felix starts and reddens underneath his cloak, but Sylvain laughs and waves it off, snagging a cheap bottle of wine from the innkeep to go along with their keys. Never mind that Sylvain's grip tightening around the strap of his bag telling another story. Sylvain ushers Felix into the third floor of the building and into a surprisingly merry room that resembles nothing like the one Felix found himself in a week back.

It'll do in any case—what's more important is Sylvain and his state of mind. Lowering his hood and unclasping his cloak, Felix moves to hang it on the coat rack by the door, watching Sylvain as he goes about his business.

As Sylvain locks the door behind them, Felix starts towards the bed. Sitting by one side, he glances at Sylvain, who sets the bottle by the table and places his bag by the foot of the bed. Taking that as his cue, Felix sheds his boots and has a hand by the waistband of his pants, ready to remove them—

"Whoa, there. Have a glass first, yeah?" Sylvain says as he makes his way back to the table. "It's gonna be pretty hard to loosen you up when you're wound so tight."

Felix stills, contemplating the proposal with a generous amount of hesitation. "Is it really necessary? I was... hoping to keep my mind clear. So I can process everything properly."

Those men never really bothered loosening him up in this manner after all, and Felix still managed to take them in, didn't he...?

"Suit yourself. I want one, though, so unless you're wanting to just sit around naked…"

Sylvain trails off, taking one glass with him when he sits back on the bed.

Felix sighs as Sylvain pulls out a bottle of oil out of the bag and tucks it between his legs before he proceeds to pour himself a glass. "Fine. I'll wait." He keeps his hands on either side of him as he watches Sylvain. "Did you bring rope? Things... will probably work better with them."

Damn, what if Sylvain hadn't? Felix probably should have been more detailed about what he wanted out of Sylvain yesterday, but what's passed has passed.

Sylvain's smile fades as he turns back to his bag, taking a swig of that wine. "I did. You had those rope burns, after all."

"I... see."

As Sylvain takes the mentioned item out of the bag, Felix winces at that voiced observation, unable to help but wonder just how pathetic he must have looked when the others found him and Dimitri. There's not much he remembers about the rescue except brief snatches of concerned voices, the bandits' screams still ringing fresh in his ears after Dimitri tucked him away to safety…

Sylavin offers the silk rope for Felix to look at. "Those are less likely to leave marks."

Pressing a hand to his forehead and shaking his head, Felix takes the rope from Sylvain, gingerly fingering it as if touching them would instantly burn his skin. They don't though, and Felix immediately sees what Sylvain means, nodding as he passes it back.

"That'll do, I guess."

"I'll take care of you, Felix."

Felix had not taken a single sip of that alcohol, yet his face feels like it's on fire anyway with Sylvain's words. It's a warmth that burns all the way to the tips of his toes and reddens his ears, though surprisingly it isn't worsened by the array of peripherals that Sylvain had thought to bring—and likely use—in this excursion of theirs.

Instead, there's just... an eerie calm—perhaps resignation—as Felix notes them, somewhat reassured by the fact that Sylvain plans on taking this seriously. First is a dildo made of glass, long and curved with a handle attached. The next is a cock ring and a blindfold.

Felix opens his mouth, about to ask why those are there, but a realization comes to him soon enough and keeps his mouth shut once more. Considering this is a reenactment of sorts, it would be better if Felix could focus on the sensations and let his imagination run away with who is doing everything. Better if he does not see Sylvain, who he already is taxing by asking this twisted favor out of him. That, and Felix will likely be outlasting Sylvain if the latter did not have the ring to keep him going...

Swallowing, Felix tears his eyes away from the objects laid out on the bed, preferring to observe the freshly lit candle by their bedside.

"Let me know when you're ready."

"I'm ready when you are," Sylvain says, tapping the bottle of oil between his legs. "Did… they talk to you? Do you want me to do that?"

"...Yes," Felix says, letting out a slow breath. "At least one of them... seemed to have something against my father. Most of them aren't fond of the royal family either."

He bites down, remembering those words he never thought he'd have to associate with himself. _Whore, bitch, slut..._ He thinks Sylvain would be able to extrapolate what they are, at least.

"It would... lend to the mood."

A difficult "yes" from Felix, but they're already here and might as well go the whole way.

"I figured," Sylvain says, pressing a hand to his temple. "All right. Go ahead and get undressed, then tell me where you want the ropes tied."

"Mm."

Felix is methodical about the way he shimmies out of his pants and underwear, standing to lay them carefully over one of the chairs in the room. He hesitates for a moment before pulling his vest over his head and doing away with his undershirt as well. Those men did leave his top on for most of the endeavor, but he might as well not bother risking destroying his uniform, considering that all he brought was himself...

Stark naked, he approaches the bed with barely any embarrassment, unthinkable just a little over a week ago. But after so many have seen him like this, his body is the thing he's least ashamed of at the moment.

Plus it's Sylvain, and this isn't exactly the first time they've seen each other naked in the sauna or the men's baths.

"Bind my wrists," Felix says as he settles back down, throwing a furtive glance at the ropes. "To the headboard, behind my back—whichever works. The point is to make sure I can't escape or touch myself no matter how much I want to."

Is what he thinks those bandits wanted, leaving Felix at their mercy the whole time.

Sylvain takes a deep breath, guiding Felix to kneel on the bed. He comes up behind him, gentle as he pulls his arms behind his back. Somehow, Sylvain's gentle direction has his stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots, nothing at all like the rough hands that had shoved him down another bed, manipulating him into their desired positions without any thought about Felix's comfort. Still, it's not a thought he stands to gain anything from, so Felix swallows the sentiment back down, focusing on keeping his expression as blank as possible as Sylvain carefully ties those ropes.

Felix tests his bonds briefly before dipping forward to lay on his stomach, spreading his legs to allow Sylvain better access as he sees him start to slick up his fingers. It's not as tight as he expected or wanted them to be, but considering that they want to avoid running to a healer after this, he leaves it be.

"Let me know if you want the blindfold once I have you loosened up," Sylvain murmurs. "After that, 'Sylvain' isn't here unless you say the word."

"It'll help, I guess," Felix says, squirming slightly as Sylvain drags his fingertips between his cheeks.

Sylvain circles his hole with his index finger, evenly distributing the oil. Felix's thigh muscles pull taut as he tries to keep himself still, stifling a gasp as Sylvain sinks his finger inside, rotating it without withdrawing it. Is... is it really normal for this to feel good? He doesn't know, really... maybe he should have asked Sylvain before they started on this, but Felix was so absorbed with his absurd request that it never occurred to him to do so.

And now... the mood does not seem completely right for it, given the preparations Sylvain needs to make to get into the mindset that Felix has requested of him. Might as well roll along with this, even if it's rather hard to keep himself from twitching as Sylvain goes about loosening him up.

One finger quickly becomes two with another generous dose of oil, the extra dripping down the inside of Felix's thighs. Felix hears Sylvain hold his breath as he scissors his fingers a few times, twisting them around until they hit a certain spot.

Felix inadvertently bucks against Sylvain's fingers when they brush against his prostate, surprised with his own reaction as Sylvain curls his fingers and begins to tease around his prostate without giving any direct pressure. Something like this happened before too, didn't it? It felt good back then too... even better now, if Felix is to think on it. Sylvain seems to be doing it on purpose too, not at all part of their discussion, but given Sylvain's nature to look after others, perhaps it should not have been unexpected...

He moans softly into the mattress, knees shifting on the bed slightly as he adjusts around the fingers inside of him, a touch ashamed at the desire stirring in his core this early. They haven't started on the reenactment yet, but is there really truth to all those jeers that Felix thought were simply jests thrown in his direction to degrade him...?

Sylvain sighs, removing his fingers despite the way Felix's body clings to them on the way out. With a deep breath, he reaches for the blindfold, moving around to cradle Felix's head in his lap. Felix breathes through his nose as he rests against Sylvain's lap, bracing himself for what's to come as Sylvain strokes his hair before he cloaks his world in darkness, leaving him feeling a little lost and wanting as he adjusts to his lack of vision. 

"That pussy of yours sure did chase after my fingers."

Felix's heart skips a beat as Sylvain drawls, the rustle of cloth following as he no doubt undoes his trousers to ease his length out. _Sylvain isn't here anymore._ Gone is any trace of gentleness from earlier, only a roughness which brings to mind that room from the week before as Sylvain fists a hand in Felix's hair, forcibly pulling him forward by the bun until his cock is pressing against his cheek.

"You want something to fill it up, don't you?"

Felix squirms as he takes in Sylvain's musk, different from those men in terms of odor... not exactly welcoming, but it isn't unbearable like the latter, perhaps a difference made thanks to the luxury of a bath. But the pulsing heat against his cheek is the same, and Felix clamps his mouth shut on instinct, remembering how unpleasant it was to try and take something like that in his mouth. He shakes his head, his mind not looking forward to what's coming at all, even when his own arousal throbs in anticipation at the promise of being filled.

_How disgusting of him._

Sylvain laughs at the refusal, a low, dark chuckle. "What, is the royal dick the only one good enough for you? I'll make him suck it if you don't."

Felix isn't left much time to dwell on his self-loathing, if only because that dark chuckle and its accompanying words ring familiar, his stomach dropping despite the familiarity, the safety he associates with that voice.

How did Sylvain know—right _._ For now, this isn't Sylvain, just one of those men that had sought to use and humiliate him...

Sylvain tightens his grip. "Go on."

Knowing he can't allow a certain fate to befall Dimitri, he obediently opens his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick Sylvain's tip. This... doesn't seem too bad, really, even if that grip is rather painful. Is it because he still thinks it's Sylvain? Or is something else at work here...?

A moment later, Sylvain shoves half his cock inside Felix's mouth, stopping just short of making him gag. Felix groans at the sudden intrusion, heat flaring within him despite the rough treatment.

"Don't make me do all the work."

Keeping in mind what might happen should he fail to satisfy this man, Felix bobs his head, tongue brushing against the sensitive underside briefly before he slides down in one smooth motion, surprising himself with the ease in which he manages it. Is it because Sylvain isn't as big as those he had to take...?

Well, whatever the case is, he has someone to please. Much as he still has no idea how this really works, he brings to mind what among his actions from back then seem to have brought people the most pleasure. Which is why he moans openly around Sylvain's cock, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard as he hopes to elicit a positive reaction.

And he does. Sylvain shifts around, thrusting his hips into Felix's waiting mouth with a soft grunt. "That's better."

Felix shudders at the husky tone Sylvain takes with him, sweeter and suggestive than anything he has ever said to him. Innocuous as those two words are, it feels like Sylvain dove straight into him, pushing deep within without any remorse as he gives Felix's waiting arousal a hard stroke...

 _Sylvain..._ no, this isn't Sylvain, and he's nowhere close to jerking Felix off. Even if his body is eagerly responding as such, his hips twitching in need as beads of precome start to form on his tip. But it was like that too back then, wasn't it? It didn't matter who did it, so as long as his body got what it wanted...

Sylvain adjusts his position, the pressure around him feeling a little different, like he's sitting on something, but Felix tries to pay it no mind, tongue lashing out to stroke Sylvain before Felix goes back to bobbing his head, seeing if he could build a rhythm between that and sucking.

Eventually, Felix's tongue earns a stuttered gasp and a soft moan, with Sylvain's grip on Felix's hair loosening for a moment. Felix wastes no time, repeating everything he just did until he figures out what it is Sylvain liked. All the while, precome leaks from his stiff cock, wanting despite the abuse. Felix tightly balls his hands into fists, concentrating on his task—

"Are you that excited thinking about me coming in your mouth? Your father must be so proud of what a hungry little slut you are—"

Felix's denial gives way to a soft whimper as Sylvain's fist tightens once more, angling Felix's head and neck to give him easy access to his throat. He jerks against his bonds as Sylvain yanks his head forward until his nose is pressed against his pubic bone. Even if those words are nothing at all like what Sylvain would say, he could still hear Sylvain in them, playful as ever, teasing—

No, that's not the point of this exercise.

So Felix focuses on their harshness, the unforgiving shaft inside his mouth and the way his throat undulates around it, suffocating as he breathes through his nose. Despite how clean Sylvain is, it's still uncomfortable, hairs prickling against his skin, ticklish as he finds himself unable to pull away. Still, Felix has a job to do, and he ignores his discomfort and arousal in favor of letting a groan rumble through his throat, tongue wiggling and lapping at the thickness inside his mouth.

" _Fuck..._ "

That foreign exclamation, one Sylvain isn't inclined to, makes it a lot easier for Felix to lose himself in the recollection he wishes to process. Sylvain lets Felix focus on using his tongue, slowly thrusting into his mouth. Though the speed is slow, each thrust is hard and demanding, forcing Felix's throat open.

"Guess I should reward you for using your tongue like a good bitch, shouldn't I?"

Coupled with the blindfold, it's easy to imagine it's some other man working his throat open, assuming things he doesn't want—

And one such thing comes, surprising as it is excruciating.

Pain layers Felix's gasp, tears beading at the corner of his eyes as the toy from earlier plunges deep, equal parts familiar and not as his hips push back against it shamefully. He stops in his ministrations, trying not to choke on Sylvain's fullness as he adjusts to this intrusion, bringing to mind those that have violated him before.

Still, that delightful friction across his prostate elicits an absolutely filthy moan from Felix, his arousal throbbing for more as he drips with anticipation. The toy makes a wet sucking sound with every stroke, and once Sylvain's built up a rhythm, he starts thrusting into Felix's mouth again.

"What, do you love it so much that you can't concentrate, or do you just want more?"

Pink dusts Felix's cheeks as he clenches like he could not get enough of it, lending credence to the words that follow even as he balks at them. But his attempt to jerk away from the offending heat is met with resistance, a firm grip that keeps him in place. His nails dig into his balled fists as his hips instinctively push back, groaning softly as the toy digs deeper into him as a result.

"Don't slack off."

Sylvain slams his cock into the tight tunnel of Felix's throat, merciless as he keeps up his pace. Eyes watering, Felix concentrates on trying not to gag, surprised to note that arousal stirs within him despite his discomfort. Felix doesn't know where all this heat, this _desire_ is coming from, but it exists. It's very much real as the way Sylvain groans out his pleasure, no different from the way other men would use him at their whim. As with the way Sylvain's hips slow down too, to savor, perhaps, the feeling of Felix's mouth.

That's good, F—"

Though Felix might as well have imagined that tiny spark of affection dripping with Sylvain's words, what with the rough way he shoves the dildo in, unheeding of Felix's own state. Yet despite the way it all hurts, Felix's moans reverberate along the length of Sylvain's shaft as the force of the toy spreading him out drives him to release, hot ropes of come splattering across his chest and stomach as he slumps slightly at the exertion.

Sylvain shudders in Felix's mouth, though instead of coming like so many others have, he just pulls his cock out of his mouth and turns him right over with the toy still in. Felix's cheek drops to the mattress once Sylvain repositions him, breathing hard once air becomes less of a lacking commodity, his lips warm and wet from the earlier exertion.

"Look what a mess you made."

Felix breathes in sharply as Sylvain purrs in a voice that's simultaneously rough and soft, like velvet being rubbed the wrong way.

"Makes me want to paint that face of yours to match. Or…"

Sylvain drags a finger up one of Felix's thighs, and despite the fact that he had just come, those fingers are rousing all the same, prompting a twitch as Sylvain starts to wiggle the toy inside of him once he reaches the juncture of his legs. Felix clamps his mouth shut to prevent a moan as he squirms against his bindings, his hips rising to meet that movement.

"Should I fill you up instead?"

Does he... does he really like what's being done to him? The way he clenches hopelessly around that toy seems to suggest it, as with the way he feels himself growing hard once more. Or is it because it's Sylvain, and no matter how much acting he does in that regard, it's difficult to forget that fact and the safety he associates with it?

"Please…"

Felix pauses, blinking behind his blindfold in disbelief. Was that needy rasp really him? His aching throat seems to suggest it, as with the soreness that lingers after he spoke it.

"...fill me."

Such language is unbecoming of him, yet this is what they want to hear in this kind of scenario, isn't it? Or is Felix just using "them" as an excuse to express what he wants...?

"I didn't even have to touch your cock."

Sylvain reaches out to give it a few strokes now despite the fact that it's going soft. The lack of attention to it has Felix throbbing anyway, letting out an open-mouthed gasp when Sylvain pulls away so soon, too soon.

While he keeps his mouth shut as Sylvain's sullied fingers ghost past his lips, the lingering touch still has heat stirring in his gut, his body longing for it still when Sylvain pulls his fingers away.

"You'll just have to make do with that if you want it in your other hole instead."

It's not at all helped by those words Sylvain says before he removes the toy, leaving behind an emptiness that simply begs to be filled.

"Do you really wish it was a pussy that much? Then you could whelp the royal pups."

Felix shakes his head in response to those taunts, never mind how the continued redness of his cheeks are sure to undermine what he's saying, as with the way his heart rate speeds up at the prospect of Sylvain, perhaps, making good on his word, considering the way he takes a deep breath and draws back. Is Sylvain putting that ring on? It seems to be the case, as slick sounds fill the air, followed by a small pause before he spreads Felix's legs wide and pins Felix's knees down to the mattress.

The new position Sylvain secures him into is far from comfortable, but he manages to adjust to it, laying back on his bound arms as he attempts to breathe and ease the tightness about his muscles. The disregard for his comfort brings to mind how he was used, though the fact that it's Sylvain doing the manipulating still has him at ease, even when his muscles strain slightly at the stretch.

Still, it's nothing compared to the intensity that greets him when Sylvain pushes into him, the heat of his cock nothing at all like the toy penetrating him earlier. Or the men that had come before Sylvain for that matter, even if he pulses and twitches in the same manner as them and swears just as well.

Everything feels too tight, too deep as Sylvain sets himself to a rhythm, piercing through him like he might tear him in half the way those men have when two of them decided to take him in the ass at the same time. But there's no blood, no unwelcome pain—just that feeling which is equal parts harsh and fierce which comes and goes as Sylvain pounds into him.

"You should really see this," Sylvain says, letting out an obscene groan, "you're gobbling me right up."

Even as Felix pants and groans, Sylvain doesn't make good on his taunt, leaving Felix to wonder what kind of face he might be wearing then. Another day, Felix probably would not want to dwell on it or find out, but in his quest for answers to many a question, with this experience raising more in their wake, he finds himself curious, wondering if he'll see a stranger's face or one that he's come to know well.

As the minutes tick by, Sylvain becomes more and more vigorous. By the time five minutes have passed, he's mercilessly slamming into Felix, his own pleasured cries mingling with the sounds he's pounding out of him.

While Felix cannot see his stomach distending, he could feel it, as well as the way the stretch makes each entry way more pronounced, painful as it is sweet. Sylvain seems to notice it too, for he reaches out to push down on Felix's belly as he moves, uttering a shaky sigh. "You're taking it all the way up to here..."

"I..."

Felix can't remember what he was going to say next, thoroughly distracted by Sylvain's touch. His back arches, breath catching in his throat as Sylvain continues to push back, sounding less and less like the big brother he's come to know, and more like those men that have taunted him, that have made him consider things he otherwise wouldn't have.

It's nothing like he's ever done, yet the sensations are familiar all the same, guiltily desirable despite the fact that Felix thinks they shouldn't be. Not when he's never bothered seeking out this kind of contact, and especially not when there's nothing supposed to be good about being used, being violated like this…

Felix wants to deny it, but the evidence is right there, emphasized by each thrust that scatter his thoughts to the wind and wrenches out such obscene noises from him.

 _He likes this._ The pain, the pleasure, the intensity of it all—he loves them, not unlike the way he enjoys training and sparring and getting stronger. So much that—now that he recalls his lost words—he has come close to begging Sylvain for more, uncharacteristic as it is for him to ask for such things.

It's a humiliating realization, one that Felix's pleasure-addled mind is still having some difficulty grasping and accepting, but is there any other way to interpret his reactions to these...?

"You like that, don't you? Serving as a cocksleeve... are you the sword, or are you just the sheath?"

Not trusting his own voice, Felix refrains from answering, clamping his mouth shut as the taunt pierces through his mind and empties it of his thoughts, everything leaking through the proverbial crack it forms. He writhes underneath Sylvain, a half-hearted attempt at resistance his body does not wish to cooperate with. There has to be an opening somewhere, even if there isn't enough give when he tries to move his knees. Sylvain may press him back down instantly and drive himself with undisguised ferocity, but Felix has kept up with his training, learning the sword while Sylvain busied himself with various frivolities...

But all of Felix's training deserts him in favor of his body's clamors for more, even as his non-answer is greeted by the scrape of teeth against the side of his neck.

How is this possible? How is he liking this, when all he has to associate with it are unpleasant memories and sensations better left forgotten? Unable to find an answer, Felix twists his head away from Sylvain, never mind the fact that all it does is expose another portion of his neck and furthers nothing of Felix's agenda to refuse what is happening and what is being done to him.

"You want me marking you up?" Sylvain murmurs against his skin.

 _Give in_ , his body says as the tension within him builds to an uncomfortable crescendo, but Felix refuses, certain there must be another explanation or tack he could take with this.

"You really are a bitch, wanting someone to mount you and bite you."

Felix's eyes fly wide open behind the blindfold, cringing as Sylvain sinks his teeth into the flesh at the crook of Felix's neck, holding tight, intent on making good on his taunt. Sylvain's firm grasp leaves him no purchase, all openings that Felix saw earlier gone as he struggles underneath him. Bending his head doesn't do much to ease the sting, nor would it erase the bruise that he's sure to see in the morning or calm that faint stirring in his center.

"It... hurts," Felix gasps, his voice coming out in a low whine, "Why…"

 _...Why? Why does it feel so good?_ Pain is a part of life, a matter of course especially in the realm of battle. Overall, it is something that should be avoided, but why is Felix reconsidering such thoughts in this particular scenario...?

No answers were forthcoming, of course. It wasn't like he was asking for Sylvain to stop anyway, especially when that throbbing fire from earlier grows into an all-consuming flame. One that has Felix whimpering, only for his breath to be sucked out by the large hand that continues to press against his throat. What breath he does take, Sylvain slams right back out of him, causing Felix to thrash instinctively at the lack of air. There's nothing graceful about the way he tries to strain his leg muscles or shake his head vigorously, as if the act would free him from the suffocating heat consuming him from the inside as his vision grows white with burning pain.

It doesn't save him from the aforementioned, but while Sylvain keeps him down all the while, the blindfold slips down his nose. Felix's vision blurs at the candlelight that illuminates the room, taking a while to focus on the face looking down at him. All he catches is a glimpse before the image blinks away, but the sight is one that's burned into his mind, in a similar way Dimitri's face was back then.

Sylvain's anger is unusual to behold, in the same manner as this hand wrapped around his neck, both and familiar and not. It's the same face he sees at school everyday, smiling without a care in the world, and this is also the same hand that used to hold Felix's smaller one, squeezing it in reassurance when they were children whenever Felix came crying to him about some trivial concern or the other.

But there's none of Sylvain's tenderness to be found in _this_. Only a darkness that Felix had an inkling about, but never really wrapped his mind around until this day, when it's all laid bare before him, along with the arousal painted over those knitted brows and exertion-reddened face.

It was selfish of Felix to have asked this of Sylvain. He should never have asked him to do it, not when it forces Sylvain into this pit he actively tries to avoid. Or perhaps, actively engages in...?

What a time to be thinking about this. Felix is not sure what the case is, and it's not easy to keep following his train of thought on this when his life is being choked out of him. Tears swim in Felix's vision as he finds himself unable to look anywhere but at the man violating him that moment, wearing the face of a person he so cherishes, but is devoid of any emotion characteristic of the said person. He does not know if that is simply his body's response to the lack of oxygen coursing through his system, or if he's mourning the loss of his friend in what his hooded eyes behold that moment.

Yet, even through this out of place haze of melancholy, desire continues to paint Felix's cheeks red, his struggles slowing down as drool trickles down his half-open mouth, unable to utter the name of the person he wishes to see in that face filling his vision.

_Give._

Again, his mind rings with that suggestion from his insatiable body, one that is slowly starting to fail as much as his mind's ability to keep everything straight. Is this man going to kill him? Maybe that isn't so bad, considering what the alternative is right now...

But before he crosses that threshold, the hand around his throat lets up, the surge of air into his deprived lungs very much welcome despite the sting that comes along with his systems kicking back into gear.

Still, that renewed warmth coursing through his veins once more is enough to push him over another brink, one that has him finally giving in to his body's clamors in an unfocused haze of white, a strangled cry accompanying the orgasm that shakes his very core with the sheer force of it.

Sylvain draws back for a moment, but is quick to follow after, coming hard after one final thrust. Felix trembles in the aftermath, whimpering when Sylvain spends himself inside of him, merciless as those that had used him prior. Warmth pools in his belly anew, revolting in its desire for more despite his exhaustion and the way the ropes bruise against his wrists, sure to be burned given all his struggles.

Without any forceful hands pushing him back, Felix's knees relax as he stretches his legs out, wincing slightly at the pull of muscle as everything rests back to where it should be.

Though a glance at Sylvain collapsing next to him has Felix's breath hitching, fearful as he recalls his circumstances. Felix has not uttered their stop word for this exercise, yet this does not seem like a part of the reenactment at all. Still, he isn't too sure on that front, though his doubts eat at him once more when Sylvain goes back to sitting up and pulling the blindfold away from him.

 _Sylvain..._ Yes, he seems to be back for the moment even if Felix hadn't called for him. But just to be sure, Felix does not bother uttering a word, simply tilting his head to the side as he swallows, waiting for some form of confirmation that Sylvain has decided to put everything on hold for the moment.

"...hey, Felix. You were seeing me when that blindfold fell off, weren't you?"

Oh, so Sylvain is indeed back. Felix takes in a breath, keeping his gaze averted as he considers his options.

"...Yes," Felix says, voice coming out in a rough rasp, balling his still tied fists behind him as guilt claws at him. The truth would perhaps benefit them both and this discussion, painful as it is to admit. "Pretending was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be."

"I thought so."

Sylvaiin reaches out to brush Felix's hair out of his face. That touch tickles against his skin, giving way to an involuntary shiver as he keeps his gaze on the seam of the door, somewhat afraid to see what he might find in Sylvain's expression.

"Does it... not work if you know it's me?" Sylvain asks with some hesitation.

"Not... in the same way," Felix says, reluctant as the words come to him after a while. "But I got some answers out of it."

Felix's teeth graze his lower lip as he debates on whether to elaborate, decidedly not keen on sharing them. But at the same time, it feels like he owes it to Sylvain to be honest about certain things even if it makes him uncomfortable. Especially when he's asked Sylvain to do something difficult, so against his usual nature.

So Felix lets silence hang in the air, waiting for Sylvain to decide for himself if he wants to hear them or not.

"Good." Sylvain lies back down beside Felix, though he doesn't make to untie his arms yet, or to cover either one of them up. "Do you want to talk about them? Or... do you want to keep searching for more?"

"I…"

Tempting as it is to set aside this uncomfortable conversation and take the way out Sylvain offers him, Felix's mind wanders back to his desire to ask Sylvain some questions earlier. Trivial as they were, he'll have to raise them some way or another, especially since Sylvain is way more knowledgeable about these kinds of things than any of Felix's acquaintances.

Never mind that he throbs with the promise behind Sylvain's words. Though he reddens at his own reaction, he mentally stamps out that flare of desire with some measure of success. Given his inability to completely forget who is the one using him, maybe Sylvain is not the right person to try this out with...

Sylvain's hate-filled expression drifts into the forefront of his mind once more, an image he sets aside for the time being.

"...guess discussing things would be good. But first…"

Felix sucks in a breath to steel himself, stomach crawling with unease at the words he needs to express himself.

"...do you hate me for asking you to do this?"

He has to know. Even with the other pressing concerns in his mind, it's something that has been bothering him since Sylvain has agreed to this request, and Felix would finally rather get the answer straight out of the horse's mouth instead of wondering about it on his own forever.

"I could never hate you," Sylvain says quietly, sitting back up and pulling him into a hug, equally surprising as the words that spill forth from his mouth. Cheek pressed against Sylvain's chest, Felix marvels at how unexpected these turns of events are, given how he had been steeling himself for a roundabout denial, something that would ring false to Felix's ears.

"I hate the people who did this to you," Sylvain says as he works at the ropes, releasing Felix with a few quick tugs. "I hate that the world is a place where shit like this happens. I hate that I knew that and I still just let you two wander off. Goddess, all I ever wanted was to protect you guys."

But there's nothing doubtful about Sylvain's words, much as Felix never imagined him saying those. Though given Sylvain's nature to look out for them, perhaps he should not have been so surprised…

"It's... not your fault."

Felix sighs into Sylvain's warmth, letting his arms lay on either side of him for the moment.

"I just wasn't strong enough, that's all."

He still does not regret storming off the way he did after Rodrigue said all those unnecessary words in front of the professor, but there is no excuse for what happened afterwards. His inattentiveness when Dimitri chased after him, his inability to fend off their assailants once Dimitri had been downed by an enemy dark mage... Felix's stomach twists into knots at the memory as he gnaws at the inside of his lower lip, none too comforted by the remembrance of his failure.

Sylvain shakes his head, bringing a hand up to Felix's head, idly stroking the tangled strands falling out of his disheveled updo. "It's not your fault, either, or Dimitri's. But we're all going to feel like that anyway, aren't we? So just... let me be here for you now."

Shifting his hold, he takes Felix's hair down, gently rubbing his scalp to relieve some of the tension where he was jerking him around by the bun.

"None of that anger was for you. I promise."

"Mmm." Felix breathes out at the release of tension when Sylvain lets his hair down, those words of his perhaps the best compromise for this situation. "I believe you, Sylvain."

And indeed, he does. Even if Sylvain's words were unthinkable just a few moments ago, it's what it is. The reality Felix couldn't see until now, clouded by self-hate.

"But... I'm not sure about myself…"

Felix curls into Sylvain's warmth, never minding that they are naked as can be at the moment. Still, that uneasiness isn't something he could chase away in a blink, lingering despite Felix's desire to rid himself of it once and for all. But this is why he's having this discussion with Sylvain at all, isn't he? To hopefully clear up things instead of engaging in a futile exercise.

Even so, the words wouldn't come then, stuck in Felix's throat as he turns them over in his mind, hesitation reigning despite the fact that he doubts Sylvain would judge him for his admittance.

_I liked it. Everything that was being done to me._

It's a succinct summary of what Felix wishes to say and to process, but putting those feelings to words is much more difficult than he anticipated, with guilt weighing his throat down, a lump that refuses to be swallowed out of the way. It has him looking away when Sylvain tilts his head up and tries to meet his eye, shame clouding his expression as a realization dawns upon him.

There's no way Sylvain wouldn't be able to tell what was running through his mind then, a thought which is a source of comfort as it is trepidation.

"You liked it," Sylvain says softly. 

And there it is for the taking—with no judgment, only a bitter understanding. Felix opts to nod to confirm it, what with another kind of tightness seizing this throat then, one that he recognizes as a prelude to tears he would hate to shed.

He hides his face in Sylvain's embrace, hoping that a moment's reprieve would allow him to stop them from escaping, hopeless as the gesture seems to be in that regard, especially when he notes that lack of judgment in Sylvain's tone. Expected as it is, there's something else that accompanies it, something that Felix couldn't put his finger on. But it makes his heart ache all the same, swelling with an anguish he could not put a word to.

"I do, too," Sylvain says, curling around Felix as he hides away. "All those women I complain about—it still feels good. Your body feels pain whether you like it or not, right? Pleasure's the same way. I figure I might as well take control of it."

Of course, Sylvain's almost nightly escapades are no secret to Felix. After all, he has joined Dimitri and Ingrid in admonishing Sylvain for his doings, though unlike those two, Felix saw them more as an inconvenience, stirring slightly from his sleep at times when he hears Sylvain's footsteps sound past his door late at night.

But for the first time, Felix feels like he finally understands Sylvain, those words of his that seemed like excuses not too long ago. Now they are Felix's excuses too, rationalizations that he'll be tucking away for the future, one that feels bleak as Felix resigns himself to the fact he has so adamantly refused.

It's that heartbreaking realization that has Felix scooting a little closer, lashes fluttering close as tears resurface to his eyes. He tenses as they come, and though he finally succeeds in swallowing the lump in his throat, his tears still fall despite his wishes for them to stop. But just like his wretched body when it was being abused, they wouldn't. It's a frustration that has Felix giving up for the moment, letting them flow as a daunting prospect of being a slave to this kind of pleasure looms in the horizon that is his future.

Is there nothing at all that he could do but surrender himself to it? Accept that he is a whore as all those men have claimed he is? What of his strength? His pride? Do they mean nothing at all in the face of this primal instinct?

Sylvain shifts to pull the blanket up around him, wearing it like a cape as he cocoons Felix and himself away. It isn't like he hadn't cried before this, considering all the tears those bandits and Sylvain had drawn from him. But this felt different anyway, born out of a frustration and fear he still isn't sure how to deal with.

Eventually, his tears slow to a trickle, leaving him with no easy answers as he rests against Sylvain, his heart a heavy weight against his chest.

"I get it," Sylvain finally says. "And... I'll be here, okay? Don't forget that."

Felix sniffles. "Even if I ask you to do it again?"

He swallows, bracing himself for Sylvain's answer as the aforementioned takes a breath, not sure if his understanding would extend to this arrangement Felix is asking of him.

"Even then. All night long if you need it."

It sounds so surreal, yet the warmth pressed against his head seals that gentle reply, the confirmation that Felix had been longing for and been hoping for against hope. Especially when Sylvain gently presses his forehead against the crown of Felix's head.

"I just don't want you thinking I hate you or something," Sylvain says.

"...Okay." Felix is glad, he really is. But somehow it's too embarrassing to admit it especially in the context of having asked Sylvain to continue having rough sex with him, so Felix foregoes saying it out loud in favor of a smile against the crook of Sylvain's neck. He can feel Sylvain smiling back, something of a soothing balm to everything he's been doing and asking of Sylvain.

"Now's the part where you say you could never hate me, either," Sylvain says in a sing-song voice. That gets Felix to scoff, though there's a familiar ring of fondness to it as he manages to tilt his head upwards to meet Sylvain's smiling face. The ghost of Felix's earlier smile lingers upon his lips, still curved slightly despite Felix's attempts at normalcy. "You really are incorrigible."

 _Strange._ How his heart skips a beat when his eyes meet Sylvain's as they twinkle. Is this what women under his spell feel, or is something else at work here...? Though with this night's events, Felix certainly counts as the former now, doesn't he? Falling into bed so easily with Sylvain, losing himself in the throes of pleasure as Sylvain had his way with him, perhaps to be forgotten just as easily once the night ends...

"...But I can't say I completely dislike that part about you," Felix says, voice low and almost a whisper as he continues to meet Sylvain's eye. Dismal as his latter thought is, he draws closer as if pulled by an unseen force, unable to stop himself as his hands fist into the bedcovers. As if that would keep him grounded, from pursuing a certain unknown that excites and terrifies him as much as his discoveries this night.

"...did they kiss you, Felix?"

That question draws pause from Felix, the air shifting about them as his brows curve downwards in confusion.

"...No," Felix says, lowering his gaze. "why...?"

It's, as Felix had come to realize, the singular thing they have not taken away from him, a familiar coldness seizing his chest when he remembers how everyone from then simply used him until he had nothing left to give—nay, even when he had nothing to offer anymore.

But why is Sylvain asking him this now? Is there a point to recalling his shame from back then, of remembering how tainted he is and unable to return the life he knew before that incident?

"I just don't want to take anything from you," Sylvain says gently, leaning down to kiss Felix's forehead instead.

"But…"

Even with the reassurance, even with the kiss Sylvain plants on his forehead, Felix's skin crawls with unease, and he worries at his lower lip briefly. Did he just seriously entertain the thought of kissing Sylvain? It did feel right in that context, but now...

It feels like Sylvain just turned him down, a strange contrast to the words he just spoke.

"...you don't want it?"

He dares to direct his gaze upwards, his eyes shining with a question, wondering where Sylvain's hesitation is coming from all of the sudden.

"Huh?" Sylvain asks dumbly, face coloring. "I mean—I didn't say that. Just, you probably want to save that for someone you're in love with, don't you...?"

...Well. That's a surprising amount of red, one that has Felix blinking, then mirroring it once Sylvain starts saying certain nonsense.

Felix scoffs, turning away. "I think you've gotten me mixed up with someone else." Him? In love with anyone? What is Sylvain getting at with this anyway? "Do I look like I care about that kind of thing?"

"Yes."

 _Yes?_ A denial is at the tip of Felix's tongue, but that answer from Sylvain serves to trigger a thought he otherwise wouldn't pursue—one that involves a certain blond he's always chased after, at least until the aforementioned died in a tragedy and was replaced by a beast in man's clothing.

...Or is it, truly? A part of Felix thinks he's always known the truth of the matter, but given what he needs to accept and do alongside that truth, it's an undertaking he's decided to just refrain from acknowledging. Moreso now, when idle thought isn't a luxury on top of everything else he needs to deal with.

"Sorry," Sylvain says in that light tone of his. "Guess I spoiled the mood."

Felix exhales, still not looking Sylvain in the eye. "Whatever. Let's just... head to bed or something."

Even so, there's no denying what he felt just moments ago. Towards Sylvain, the rush of affection he tried to deny, then challenged just now. This—what they're doing now, what they've done—is supposed to be a simple arrangement of convenience, yet the same voice in the back of Felix's mind that had questioned his denial is also pushing forward another doubt, another possibility with regard to his feelings about a certain redhead...

It's a question he's not too keen on addressing today by any means, so he just hopes that Sylvain would just roll along with his suggestion for the moment.

Sylvain swallows, lying back on his side and bringing Felix along with him, leaving the discarded toys where they are. Tucking himself next to Sylvain's chest, Felix buries himself under the covers.

"Okay," Sylvain says. "But... if you can't sleep, I'm still right here."

Felix is quiet for a moment when Sylvain indirectly offers to keep going, but he shakes his head. "I'm good for now."

He's not too keen on returning to the realm of sleep given what usually waits for him, but perhaps tonight is a good way to test out Sylvain's theory. There is, reluctant as he is to admit it, some level of satiation to be had from earlier's violent tryst, as well as a level of exhaustion he's only ever associated with a heavy workout.

Maybe, just maybe, tonight will be one that's free of nightmares.

"Good night, Sylvain."

Sylvain stretches his arm out to douse the bedside lamp, draping it back over Felix when the room is only lit by the silvery light of the moon.

"Good night, Felix."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, folks! The past few months have been terrible creativity-wise, but better late than never! Here's to more of Felix's unhealthy coping mechanisms!

As Sylvain had theorized, Felix's sleep indeed proves to be dreamless—or at the very least, forgettable. A relief by a mile and long, though it comes with an ounce of trepidation at what Felix may have to do in order to keep things that way.

But there's no escaping the sunlight filtering into their room, warm against Felix's face and causing him to wrinkle his nose as he starts to blink the sleep out of his eyes. Slowly extracting himself from Sylvain's embrace and careful not to disturb him, Felix stifles a yawn when he twists and rises, pulling himself up to sit on the bed.

...Well, so much for not disturbing Sylvain. Felix glances towards Sylvain as he utters a sleepy protest and cracks an eye open.

"Morning," Sylvain mumbles into the pillow with a stupid little smile. Felix returns the greeting, stretching as the cover slides down his torso. Goddess, though… he cringes as his thighs ache with something foreign, likely a result of the previous night's activities. Perhaps with time, it'd ease into something less troublesome, especially if he makes a habit of it.

...A habit, huh. Felix examines his rope-burned wrists, relieved that they don't ache as much as he anticipated. A couple of vulneraries and some balm should set him straight, though Sylvain was definitely right about doing this before their free day. With elementary white magic, it'll likely take the day for him to recover properly from what they did last night.

"I have some balm back in my room if you'd like," Sylvain says.

Felix tilts his head curiously towards Sylvain as he slides out of the bed, his eyes greeted by the sight of his bare ass, the curve of which is covered up by him pulling up his pants, albeit hurriedly for someone who just got up.

Huh.

"I have some in my room."

For bruises and the like from the training grounds, considering how troublesome it could be to run to Manuela every time he goes a little too hard on training...

He absently presses his hand to the back of his neck, regretting it a moment later when it stings unexpectedly.

Ah, right. Sylvain did that yesterday, didn't he...? His collar will cover most of that up, but without anyone better with white magic on it, that will probably stick for a while...

"..I guess if I run out," Felix says growing pink at those words, a little daunted by the bothersome stares sure to follow him around should it be brought to attention.

"Once the edges of that start to yellow, try to sit in your room when the sun angles in. If you get some sun on it, it'll heal up faster."

Felix snorts, but keeps Sylvain's words in mind all the same, given that he hadn't had to deal with a bruise this large without having a healer or his father on it. As Sylvain finishes dressing up, Felix meanders towards where he left his clothes the previous night and is quick to pull them on, absently running a hand through his hair as Sylvain packs up.

"Here."

As if reading Felix's mind, Sylvain twists to hand him a comb, waving it in the air. Embarrassing as it is to forget (and bring... practically nothing but himself, really), he accepts the comb with grace, nodding in appreciation.

"...Thanks." It'd be troublesome if anything looked off about Felix when they return to the monastery after all. After running it through his hair and cringing at the odd tangles, Felix starts gathering it up to pull back in his usual bun.

"...Hey, Felix. I think we missed breakfast, so... take a couple of sips of that."

Felix frowns towards where Sylvain's gaze is directed as he finishes tying his hair. The wine bottle from yesterday.

"On an empty stomach?"

Doubt layers his tone, though it borders uncertainty as Felix folds his arms, a little perturbed at how sure Sylvain is when he says that. He knows Sylvain goes around often enough of course, but with the way he's going, it almost sounds like this is almost _normal_ for him…

"Yeah. If anyone asks, I'll just say we went out drinking and crashed in the inn instead of wandering home drunk. I mean, people probably won't ask _me_ , but you..."

Ah. Well, that sheds some light upon things. More light than Felix is used to or comfortable beholding, if he were to be honest.

...Just what does Sylvain do after night? Is there more to it than just a distraction...? He's starting to get the inkling there's more to the story now, but it hardly isn't in his place to ask.

"...Okay."

Especially when he has some covering up to do on his own. Felix takes the bottle from Sylvain, and a sigh later, takes a generous sip from it. Clicking his tongue at the liquid he rarely indulges in, he takes another drink after a pause. The liquid is warm in his empty belly and will likely be giving him hell later, but if it's an excuse he needs, then here it is. Better this... than explaining what he had been up to with Sylvain. He's already had enough of pitying looks from those who know, and it's about damn time everyone else moved on from it—even if Felix has a hard time doing so himself.

Once he's done, Felix hands the bottle back to Sylvain, which still has some left in it. "Anything else we need to do before going back?"

Sylvain takes the bottle back, leaning in close for a moment to take a whiff. Dabbing some wine on his fingers, Sylvain carefully wets down a couple of Felix's flyaways, startling him with this turn of events.

"Nothing else," Sylvain says, grinning quickly as he meets Felix's gaze. It becomes all clear when Sylvain starts to give his own hair the same treatment too, then leaves the rest of the bottle in the room and shoulders his bag, stepping into his shoes.

"Ready to go, then?"

While Felix doesn't return Sylvain's smile, he rests his forehead briefly against Sylvain's shoulder when he turns away, breathing in as if his alcohol-disguised scent would allow him the strength to face the coming days.

It doesn't, really, but it does lighten his chest slightly.

"Yes."

* * *

After Sylvain drops off their keys and some money, they start on their journey back to the monastery. Thankfully it's as uneventful as can be, with no one paying them mind as they make their way back. Parting ways at the gate, Felix wastes no time checking out the dining hall and filling up, quite famished from skipping both dinner and breakfast.

It does lend his mind a better sense of clarity, though it's not enough for him to register the surprise that crosses Dedue's expression when they bump into each other in that place, preferring to ignore the aforementioned as per usual.

Which is why the knocks on his door come as a surprise. It's barely been five minutes since he's been inside—who could be calling this time of the day? Sighing, he opts to ignore it as he fishes out the balm from his drawer, hoping that whoever is calling would just opt to do it later.

The knocking just grows louder. "Felix? Are you all right?"

The heavy pounding is suggestive of who it was, but it's that next to hysterical call which seals the deal. Though muffled by the door separating them, Felix has found himself intimately familiar with that intonation, a voice he could not forget even if he wanted to.

Right... only Sylvain knows of their plans. Felix had forgotten to inform once certain person about them, not that he was inclined to in the first place. And now he's rightfully paying for it, and so is his door.

With a sigh, Felix stashes the balm back where he stored it, and with a tug of his collar to conceal his bruise, he takes several wide steps towards the entrance to his room.

But he hesitates before it, though when the following knocks come a little more frantically and dangerously, Felix takes a deep breath and twists the lock open, a scowl on his face when he opens it a crack.

"What the hell is that question for?" Felix asks anyway, letting his irritation overwhelm his expression instead of the guilt that twists his gut at the worry painted over Dimitri's features.

Something in the way he looks has Dimitri sagging forward in relief, audibly sighing as his forehead rests against the doorframe. Then he straightens back up, brows tugging down in a sharp frown.

"What do you think? Where _were_ you? You just disappeared after class! You never came back to your room last night, you didn't show up for breakfast—Ingrid and I tried to find Sylvain and ask him, but he was gone, too! And then I thought—his family is not exactly popular with unsavory types up north, either, I—"

A small concession is that Felix lets Dimitri go on his nonsensical tirade, one that gets more and more hysterical and excessively paranoid by the moment. He takes it in stony silence, at least until the moment the doorframe starts to make some ominous cracking sounds as Dimitri grips it tightly.

"...please, Felix."

But Dimitri's soft and shaky plea makes him reconsider speaking, to instead pause as he waits for Dimitri to finish speaking.

"I know... why you would want to keep some distance from someone as violent and bloodthirsty as I can be. But please, at least tell Ingrid if you are going somewhere overnight like that. She was worried, too."

Felix's brows slant downward, letting his line of sight fall on Dimitri's chest instead of Dimitri's face. Yes, Dimitri mother-henning and asking him to inform people of his whereabouts is a little expected now, an oversight on his end when he stole away with Sylvain. But assuming the reason why Felix had started avoiding Dimitri is because of the beast Felix keeps insisting is there...

...It, perhaps was true just a few weeks back, but now... there's that, fading away into Dimitri's hooded gaze as he beholds Felix, servicing him as he's always meant to—

What a thing to fixate on. Felix lets out an exasperated sigh, openly glaring as he tries to mentally shake off that memory, which will surely haunt him later again.

"...Fine," Felix says, folding his arms. "Whatever, I'll tell someone."

Still, despite his tone of finality, Felix doesn't shut the door. Not yet, at least until Dimitri has calmed down and had a chance to smell the proverbial roses. Though perhaps that's not the right term in this case, considering it involves the stink of alcohol. Still, Felix wants Dimitri to let his senses come to a conclusion for him, just to save Felix the trouble of being potentially betrayed by his body language.

"Thank you," Dimitri murmurs, ceasing his assault on the innocent door frame. Felix sees the moment when Dimitri picks up on it—he takes a slow, deep breath, nostrils flaring when he senses it, looking mildly nauseated.

Felix hardens his glare in response, never mind the small pang of guilt that comes with seeing Dimitri's reaction to his deception. "What now?"

It's a demand as much as it is a challenge, one that has Felix laying a hand over the door, prepared to shut it in Dimitri's face should he provide the wrong answer in this regard.

"Sorry about all the trouble, Your Highness." Sylvain, as if appearing from nowhere, sidles right up alongside Dimitri and casually drapes an arm over his shoulders like nothing is wrong at all. Dimitri practically jumps out of his skin as Sylvain gives Felix a small wave which he does not return, glancing back to Dimitri afterwards. "I thought a drink or two would be a good way to wind down before our free day, but Felix here is a lightweight. It's safer to just stay at the inn than it is to stumble home drunk in the dark."

"I see," Dimitri says, turning to partially face Sylvain as he lifts a hand to clutch at his shirt for a moment. "Well... just mention it to someone next time, please."

Felix exhales, letting that breath release the tension in his shoulders as Dimitri settles for saying that instead of something incredibly stupid.

"I'm crashing for a while," Felix says. "So if there's nothing else, get lost."

...Well. More like he has some bruises to address, plus he needs to make sure that alcohol from earlier doesn't give him too much trouble. _Then_ , maybe he'll crash, or do some exercises inside his room since he does not feel like risking a visit to the training grounds later, when Dimitri might be using them.

Dimitri nods shortly, excusing himself as he lets go of Sylvain and shuffles out of sight. Only then do the lines around Felix's eyes relax, giving way to a spot of worry as he hears his footsteps fade away. It'll be okay if he keeps his distance from Dimitri, right? Eventually those feelings will disappear and fade away into memory, just like his ordeal last week...

Then he realizes that Sylvain is still looking at him through his partially open door, an observation that has his expression creasing back into a frown.

"...That goes for you too."

But his usual bite isn't there, the statement a mere attempt at normalcy. There's no use trying to keep this up around Sylvain, especially when he's seen more than Felix would have wanted bared at any rate.

"All right, all right," Sylvain says, turning to start down towards his own room, "try to go on easy on him."

"I can't promise that."

Not when being with Dimitri gives rise to all these feelings he's better off not dwelling upon, and not when closeness is uncalled for, especially in light of how tainted his memories of Dimitri are given everything that's happened.

Better for Dimitri to give up and go on with his life, just as Felix is trying to.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe this PWP fic grew a plot, but here we are. Hope you'll all enjoy!
> 
> Comments, kudos, bookmarks are always loved!
> 
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> 
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